


destiny-free, really

by earnmysong



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 17:53:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1162733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earnmysong/pseuds/earnmysong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>In lieu of punching a wall because, you know,” a grimace crosses her features, “that would be incredibly painful, I busted out my yoga skills.”</i> // Felicity trains with Oliver but very little training actually happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	destiny-free, really

**Author's Note:**

  * For [phrenitis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/phrenitis/gifts).



> Disclaimer: _Arrow_ belongs to its rightful owners. Title is borrowed from Buffy. Reposted because I decided I liked this after all. Plus, I got my pre-assessment drafts in ahead of schedule and my supervising teacher said they were great, so. \o/. HAVE FIC.

\----

Felicity’s mistake is letting Oliver find her in the middle of a half-moon pose when he comes back from a lunch meeting with a QC investor one afternoon. She doesn’t flinch when he steps into the room, doesn’t even notice he’s moved to stand directly in front of her - his expression equal parts bemusement, awe, and shock – until he clears his throat.

At which point the unexpected noise causes every ounce of grace she has in her to disappear completely and lands her unceremoniously on the floor in a tangled heap of limbs and fabric.

“Oliver,” she breathes, wrapping a hand around the corner of her desk to leverage herself into a standing position, adjusting her dress as she gets her feet under her, “how’s the stock market treating Mr. Langdon?” 

“Great. He’s very excited about his options.” She’s only half-listening to his answer even though she was the one who asked the question, choosing instead to absently pat her head and scour the floor for something she appears to have misplaced. “Looking for these?” Walking behind her, he bends to pick up her glasses, wipes them off on his jacket before he hands them over. “It seems like you had quite an eventful few hours too.” 

“The network decided to crash in the middle of installing upgrades to our patch on the precinct’s CCTV system. In lieu of punching a wall because, you know,” a grimace crosses her features, “that would be incredibly painful, I busted out my yoga skills.” She tilts her head slightly, replaying the events of the last couple minutes in her head. “Tried to, anyway.” 

“I was impressed.” He smiles. “And,” he nods to himself as he says the next part, making the decision as he speaks. “If you can do that, you should be training.”

She starts shaking her head no before her brain can catch up with her mouth and make it form the word. “Dig taught me…”  


“How to stay alive. I think it’s time we went beyond that,” he tells her, turning back toward the door he’d come through earlier.

“I’m pretty okay with the status quo, actually. Aside from the whole ‘sleeping with my boss’ insanity, but I’ve got people on that.” He’s in the hallway now, turns to give her an _are you coming?_ look. “Oh. We’re starting now? Awesome. I think.” She grabs her purse and keys from their drawer, sprints to catch up to him after she locks up. “Have I mentioned that my pain threshold is extremely low? Because it is.”

“You’ll be fine, Felicity,” he laughs. “Trust me.”

\----

“Wouldn’t it be easier to buy me a taser and call it a day?” Felicity’s question is muffled because Oliver has her pinned against the mat, hands held loosely behind her back and the blue plastic leaving patterns on one cheek.

“You almost had it.” He gets to his feet, reaches down to help her up. “Remember, though. Kick as you’re coming out of the roll, not after it’s already done. Your foot missed my chest by,” here he holds two fingers an inch or so apart to illustrate his point, “this much.” 

“Maybe I meant to do that,” she declares emphatically. “It’s all part of the plan.” Under her breath, she whispers, “Not that I have a clue what that plan would be.”


End file.
